Thursday, January 12, 2012

Get Your Butt To LA, Part 33: You… You’re Good…

So maybe you weren’t the most talented person in your high school. I’m sure you remember the guy who was. Good for him. But just because he can sing on key in Godspell doesn’t mean he has the makeup to come out here and succeed. In terms of singular talent, this is like being elected president as the legal-weed candidate.

What I’m trying to say is I don’t want you to think for a second that you’re not talented enough to become a working actor. And I want to apologize for taking the long way to get there. Pretentious analogies are like supermarket cupcakes – shitty.

There’s no such thing as “natural talent.” Sure, I have friends that are show-offs, or have great voices or can lie with a straight face. My dry cleaner may do a bitchin’ Christopher Walken imitation (albeit with a Pakistani accent), but is he destined to become a star? Not really. The dude’s perfectly happy getting the blood out of my clown suit each week.

But you, you’re the driven one. You’re the one who understands that talent is one thing, but fortitude is another. It’ll take time to develop your craft, and you’re perfectly willing to sacrifice the kickass house I assume dry cleaners own because for you, there’s no more fun and no better career than acting. And you know that it’s not so much about luck as it is about being patient and persistent, getting that one line on a TV show that leads to getting two lines on another, which leads to a guest star on yet another and eventually a big role in a film.

There are people who are not very good actors who maintain long and successful careers. You’ve discussed them with your friends walking out of theaters for years. But talent is in the eye of the beholder. Having the drive to come out here is most of what it takes. Overcoming nervousness in auditions is a good chunk as well. And talent will come with great acting classes and work. Remember, every actor, including Meryl Streep, started at zero.

So stop doubting yourself. And don’t let others doubt you, too. I understood when my mom worried about me becoming an actor. Worry is like Gatorade for Jewish mothers – it replenishes their electrolytes.

Get your butt out here. Now.